


Taken Care

by Iyrsiiea



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Family Feels, Gen, Neglect
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-02
Updated: 2017-10-16
Packaged: 2019-01-08 03:42:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12246309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iyrsiiea/pseuds/Iyrsiiea
Summary: Stan felt something was off the first day Dipper and Mabel came to live with him.





	1. Chapter 1

Stan felt something was off the first day Dipper and Mabel came to live with him.

He wasn’t exactly thrilled about it. Having two dumb kids running around was bound to be trouble, and Stan had things to do. Things to hide. But he couldn’t refuse without risking someone from the family getting suspicious. Besides, the kids wouldn't be able to tell.

The Shack got lonely sometimes too, and if that played a part in his decision he would never admit it to anyone.

On their first day in Gravity Falls, Stan watched the twins carefully.

\---

That first morning, with a pair of sleeping children in his attic, Stan went into the kitchen and made breakfast for three. If he was going to be saddled with them for the next couple of months, he’d at least try to be a passable guardian. And that included feeding the little twerps.

The breakfast was just pork patties and toast with jam. He wasn’t aiming to be the _best_ guardian after all.

Stan had set all the plates out and started in on his own food when the twins came clambering down the stairs and into the kitchen. They both skidded to a halt when they saw Stan and the food laid out.

Stan didn’t immediately look up, his eyes glued to the newspaper next to his plate, but when he didn’t hear them sit down he looked over the two. Dipper was wearing an almost identical outfit to what he was wearing yesterday, same vest, shorts and hat. Mabel, on the other hand had new hair clips in and was wearing a bright blue sweater with stars on it.

Both children were staring at him, wide-eyed. Stan barked out, “What are you looking at?”

Stan was well aware the food was probably worse than they were used to. Not to mention having to eat with their great uncle, who belatedly realized he was sitting there in his boxers.

Mabel’s voice broke off Stan’s self-deprecating thoughts. “Oh, Grunkle Stan!” She rushed over to the table, grinning ear to ear. “Why, I’m looking at a great breakfast!”

“Yeah,” Dipper added as he followed in Mabel’s wake, surprised approval in his voice. “This looks… nice.”

Not believing what he was hearing, Stan scrutinized the two closely. Mabel was already shoving her food in her mouth at a slightly worrying pace, showing no aversion to it at all. Dipper cast an amused glance at his sister, then went for his own plate at a slower but no less pleased rate.

Stan hid a small smile behind his newspaper.

Once Mabel had inhaled all the food on her plate and downed her cup in one go, and jeez, he’d seen alcoholics have a rough time knocking back that much liquid at once, she didn’t immediately leave like Stan had expected. Instead she struck up a conversation with her brother, who was still eating. Something about unpacking their things and decorating the attic. And… floorplans? Stools? Hammers?

Whatever they needed a hammer for, Stan didn’t care. As long as they didn’t go and get themselves killed or bring down the Shack, they could paint the whole attic pink for all he cared. Well… maybe not pink.

Stan returned his attention to the newspaper, blocking out their conversation. A short while later, both twins were thanking him for breakfast, which he waved off without comment. The two left sometime afterward, and Stan could faintly hear voices and thumping from the attic above. Having finished his reading, Stan put down his paper and considered calling one of them down to do the dishes, before realizing the kitchen table had already been cleared away and the plates all washed.

\---

Lunch played out similarly to breakfast, the simple sandwiches Stan made going over way better with the kids than he expected. With the Mystery Shack closed for Sunday, Stan shooed the kids off to play outside. After they left, Stan went up to the attic to survey what the damage was.

It wasn’t as bad as Stan feared. They had shuffled around the furniture, moving both the beds to the far side of the room on opposite walls. The desk and nightstand were in between the beds, under the triangle window, and were now covered in books. One of the beds was obviously the girl’s, given all the pink posters put up on the wall over it and stuffed animals. The other had less stuff on in, but there was a pair of binoculars hanging above the headboard. Stan’s gaze drifted from the binoculars to the window, where a string of what looked like Christmas lights had been strung up.

Seems they’d found the hammer and nails, and managed to not hurt themselves in the process.

The room wasn’t pink, the Shack was intact and no one was hurt. Stan shrugged and made his way back downstairs, planning on spending the afternoon in front of the TV.

It occurred to him, sometime later, that neither had asked for his help in finding or using any tools in setting up their room. Not even to move any furniture. As that little fact let him be lazy and not do anything, he let it slide without further thought.

\---

As the latest episode of Ducktective came to a close, Stan checked his watch. He blinked his eyes and checked again, but it was still six o’clock. The time had passed really quickly, and now he had to think of dinner for two kids.

Eh, pizza would be fine. Probably.

A quick call to the local pizza place and dinner was sorted. Next, he had to find the kids. They weren’t in the kitchen or living room, and not in the attic. Stan considered calling for them outside, but decided to wait a bit longer. He settled back down in his chair to wait for the pizza guy to get there.

Two advertisements later the front door opened and a pair of chattering preteens came in, not looking in Stan’s direction at all.

“Okay, okay! I give up.” Dipper was chuckling. “You’re the best at tree climbing.”

“Thank you,” Mabel replied cheekily.

Dipper sighed. “Man, how long were we outside? I’m starving.” The boy headed off to the kitchen, Mabel trailing behind. Stan followed them quietly, stopping to stand in the kitchen doorway.

“I dunno, a couple hours? Let’s see what we’ve got to work with…” Mabel started opening cabinets while Dipper checked the fridge.

“There’s some milk, eggs and butter in here.”

“Some canned stuff… oooo boxed pasta. How’s that sound Dipper?”

Before Dipper could respond, Stan spoke up. “Pizza’s on the way.”

Both twins jumped at the sound of his voice, hurriedly closing what they’d been looking in and turning to face him.

“Grunkle Stan, you’re…” Mabel started, wide eyed.

“...here,” Dipper finished breathlessly. He blinked. “Wait, pizza?”

There was something a bit off, Stan thought, about these kids. They seemed strangely happy when he made them breakfast, and despite his age Stan was still sharp enough to tell if someone was lying to his face, but they were more than willing to make their own food. They hadn’t gone looking for him to ask about dinner.

From the sound of it, they hadn’t even thought he would be here.

Stan told himself that it was just the first day. They were still getting used to things. No need to make a fuss about it.

“Yeah, I ordered delivery. Now,” Stan grinned, “who wants to watch Ducktective?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stan noticed a few weird things during the first two weeks of Dipper and Mabel’s visit.

Stan noticed a few weird things during the first two weeks of Dipper and Mabel’s visit.

Not that there wasn’t plenty of weirdness going on. Dipper turned out to be obsessed with the craziness of Gravity Falls in an all too familiar way. Stan lied and pretended not to notice, but really. An army of gnomes? Cursed wax figures? The kid just had to go and stick his nose everything. And Mabel was no help, more often than not she was right there alongside him. Stan could have put his foot down harder, but he didn’t. If anyone asked it was because he couldn’t be bothered to put in the effort, and not because they reminded him of a different pair of twins from forty years ago.

That weirdness was more than enough to deal with, as far as Stan was concerned. But other things, smaller things, stood out sometimes.

\---

“Hey Dipper!” Stan shouted up the stairs, “Soos just got done using the bathroom. Go unclog the toilet.”

There was a distinct, disgusted groaning sound, then, “Yes Grunkle Stan.”

Stan parked himself just down the hall a bit from the bathroom door, grinned at a disgruntled Dipper as he entered the room and waited, listening. He was anticipating some hilarious clanking and shuffling as the kid tried to figure out how to unclog the toilet. Stan was sure it would take Dipper some time to figure it out, but he hoped it would teach the boy some lesson about ingenuity or perseverance or somesuch.

And it would be funny to hear him fumble around.

As Stan shook himself out of his thoughts, Dipper came out of the bathroom. “There, done. I’m gonna go outside for a bit.” The kid turned the corner before Stan could say a word.

Incredulous, Stan strode into the bathroom and flushed the toilet. It worked perfectly.

So, Dipper knew how to unclog toilets. Stan shrugged. At least now he had someone he could order to do it that wasn’t Soos. Soos went home at the end of the day.

\---

After another uneventful breakfast, which the twins still seemed to like way more than Stan thought kids should like bagels and cheese, Mabel took everyone’s plates over to the sink without being asked. From behind today’s paper, Stan heard the sink turn on. There was some clinking of plates, then a sudden clattering sound as the plates were put down and the sink turned off.

“Ugh, that smell! Probably the garbage disposal…” Mabel was muttering. Stan looked over the paper at the girl, opening his mouth to tell her to leave it alone, he’d deal with it later, but she was already opening the freezer and pulling the ice cube tray out. “Couple o’ ice cubes, and maybe…” the girl was humming to herself, checking the fridge and grabbing something from inside. “Ah-ha, lemon! Your sourness shall bring us a new sweet smell this day!”

“Uh… sweetie? What are you-” Stan asked, his voice drowned out by Mabel turning on the sink.

She set out the tray and lemon, and after a moment’s searching found the switch for the garbage disposal. Pulling out a few ice cubes from the tray, she dropped them into the disposal one at a time. As the fourth one was ground up, Mabel found a knife and quickly had the lemon sliced up into wedges. The lemon wedges followed the ice cubes shortly thereafter. Once that was done, she turned off the disposal and took a deep breath. “Ah, citrus freshness…”

She seemed pleased with herself. Stan wasn’t sure what to say, so he didn’t say anything. Soon enough Mabel went back to the dishes and Stan went back to his morning paper, filing away that handy disposal-cleaning trick for later.

\---

Stan was sitting in his chair, watching babies fight, when he heard Mabel yelling from another room. “Dipper! I’m done with the washer!”

Dipper’s response came from somewhere upstairs. “Okay…?”

“You can start your laundry!”

“I’m good, thanks!”

“No you’re not! You haven't done laundry since you got here!”

“...I did it before we left!”

“Oh don’t even try that with me, bro-bro!”

There was a loud sigh. “Fine!”

“Good!”

The twins quieted down and, aside from the TV, the house was silent again. Stan tried to remember if he’d ever told the twins to do their laundry. He hadn’t. He hadn’t shown them where the washing machines were or how to use their either.

One of the babies on the TV smacked the other hard enough to make them cry, distracting Stan from wondering if it was normal for twelve year olds to do their laundry on their own without being asked.

\---

It was a comfortable evening, after the Mystery Shack had closed up for the day. Stan sat at the kitchen table, looking over his latest issue of “Gold Chains for Old Men” magazine. Dipper was in the corner chair, tilting it backward, as he scribbled something on a notepad. Also at the table was Mabel, who was knitting something. Stan had no idea what the girl was making, but evidently it required large amounts of pink and purple yarn.

Suddenly, the lights went out. The kids both made startled sounds. “What the he-” Stan began to exclaim before cutting himself off.

“Did the light bulb burn out?” Mabel asked in the darkness.

There was the sound of Dipper setting his chair down on all four of its legs. “I dunno… the hallway’s out too.”

Stan stood up and cracked open the fridge. When the light didn’t turn on, he hurriedly shut it to keep the cold in. “Looks like the power went out. I’ll go-”

“Check the breakers!” Mabel interrupted him. “It’s my turn I think, right Dipper?” She didn’t wait for a response, and her next words came from the hallway. “Watch the lights for me?”

Befuddled, Stan muttered, “Does no one even listen to me anymore?”

“We listen, Grunkle Stan,” Dipper was quick to assure. “She just really likes to flip the breakers… for some reason.”

“Your parents really shouldn’t let you kids play with breakers. Might mess something up,” Stan groused.

“I, ah… they…” Dipper tried to respond quickly, but seemed to not know what to say. “We’re… it’s fine. They’re… fine. With it.”

Stan’s eyebrow rose as the boy’s blatant cover up. He couldn’t be sure exactly _what_ Dipper didn’t want to say but there was obviously something that needed saying.

The light came back on. The relief on Dipper’s face hid whatever expression he’d had before.

“The lights are back!” Dipper yelled to his twin.

Mabel’s voice echoed through the house. “Mabel is victorious once again!”

Stan stifled the feeling of uneasy curiosity that had started to rise in him.

It’s just been two weeks. If there’s something important, it’ll come out eventually. Prying won’t help.

It wasn’t like he actually had anything to pry about anyways. It was probably nothing.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stan realized something was wrong a month into Dipper and Mabel’s summer with him.

Stan realized something was wrong a month into Dipper and Mabel’s summer with him.

It seemed like such a small problem at first.

The problem wasn’t with the kids themselves. Honestly, once he adjusted to having them around Stan actually kinda liked having them there. Mabel was cheery and sweet, to the point that she could almost always make him smile. She was just an infectious little germ like that. His feelings about Dipper were more… complicated, but Stan still found himself enjoying having the little runt around.

Taking care of them wasn’t much of an issue either. It was still weird to Stan how independent the two of them were, but it did mean that in the end he only had to do the bare minimum on his part to keep the pair alive and healthy. He made sure they got three meals a day, had a roof over their heads, and kept an eye on them in case they needed help or something. They seemed content to handle the rest themselves.

Even the supernatural nonsense wasn’t that much trouble. Sure, Dipper found the magical copier machine, and thought Stan hadn’t noticed the duplicate Dippers running around, but that sorted itself out quickly and Dipper seemed to have learned not to mess with it again. And then there was Gideon, the little monster, causing trouble, but that was handled too. He wasn’t exactly sure what Gideon was going on about that one time in the hall of mirrors, but from the sound of it Dipper and Mabel stopped… whatever it was that blonde midget was planning. Somehow. Stan figured it was fine.

He did seriously wonder what was up with the giant hole in the roof, but he decided he didn’t really want to know.

The problem wasn’t with any of that. That, Stan could deal with.

The problem was the “p” word.

\---

Stan stared longingly out the window. He straightened when he thought he saw a car coming up the road, but he quickly realized it was just a bit of sunlight reflecting off a sign. Sighing, Stan turned to face the interior of the gift shop and slouched against the doorframe.

It was a slow day at the Mystery Shack, no customers to be seen. Dipper and Mabel were chatting over by the vending machine, Wendy had her feet up on the counter reading some teen magazine, even Soos apparently couldn’t find anything productive to do and was instead playing with some of the figures in the gift shop. Stan was tempted to tell him off for messing with the merchandise, but he couldn’t really muster up the energy.

Honestly, he was bored too.

“Hey Wendy!” Mabel called out. “Could you help settle a little sibling bet?”

The redhead in question lowered her magazine slightly, smirking. “What’s the bet?”

“Mabel thinks she can do a better impression of me than I can do one of her,” Dipper said. When the boy spoke next, it was in a high-pitched voice. “But that’s just crazy! I’m Mabel, I’m the best at everything!”

“Yeah right,” Mabel responded in a deeper voice. “You’re not the best at everything Mabel. Don’t you remember when I beat you at chess like twenty times?”

“Okay fine,” Dipper huffed, still acting as Mabel, “I’m not the best at everything, but I am the more fabulous twin!”

“‘More fabulous’?” Mabel-as-Dipper scoffed. “Honestly Mabel...”

Wendy chuckled. “Wow. You’re both really good at that.” Stan privately agreed. He’d done better of course, but Dipper and Mabel had the handicap of being different genders and having very different voices. With that in mind, it was pretty impressive. “I’m gonna have to call this one a tie.”

“Agh, darnit,” Mabel groaned. “And I spent all that time practicing at home…”

“Yeah?” Wendy replied idly, going back to her magazine. “Bet that drove your parents crazy.”

With her attention on the magazine Wendy didn’t see how Mabel’s smile shifted to something a bit more forced, or how Dipper bowed his head so the bill of his cap hid his eyes. Mabel let out a small, strained giggle. “Heh, ah, yeah… totally.”

Stan watched, brow furrowed in concern, as the twins shuffled closer together.

\---

Stan entered the living room one morning to find Mabel in his chair working on something. “Hey sweetie. What’re you up to?”

Mabel briefly looked up at Stan before looking down at the book in front of her. “Just updating my scrapbook.” She finished gluing something into the book and leaned to the side to show him the page. There were already two other pictures on it, one of Mabel in her newest sweater and one of Dipper holding an abnormally large fork. The sides of the page were covered in stickers and glitter.

There were a few pictures laying on the arm of the chair, most he recognized as being from a few days ago. One of the photos was of him. Stan picked it up and grimaced. “Eck, you got my bad side in this one. Does your scrapbook really need it? Maybe I should hold on this…”

Stan started to slide the photo into his pocket, but Mabel snatched it out of his hand. “No, silly! You look fine in it!” She quickly stuck the photo to the page before Stan could try to get it back. “And of course the scrapbook needs it, it’s for documentation.”

Stan leaned against the side of the chair. “Documenting? What for?”

“You know, keeping track of all the stuff Dipper and I do. It’s to help us remember and,” Mabel looked up at him with a grin so bright it was hard not to smile with her, “we can show it off to people. See?” She flipped back to the first page and then held the book up to him proudly displaying a picture of the three of them in front of the Mystery Shack. “Here’s us on our first day here!”

“You’ve been keeping a scrapbook for just this summer?”

“Of course not, I’ve got a bunch of scrapbooks!” To prove her point, Mabel reached inside her sweater and pulled out another book.

Stan’s eyes bugged a bit at the sight. “You… carry that around inside your sweater?”

“Yep,” the girl replied cheerfully. “How else am I gonna be able to show them off to people? Anyway,” Mabel plowed onward, “this is my school scrapbook, see?” She opened randomly to a page with a pair of school pictures that looked fairly recent. “I don’t need some silly yearbook when I can just put our pictures in here! And this way we only need the one picture each!”

There was something a tiny bit strange in the way she said those last two lines, and Stan couldn’t help but be curious about it.

“Don’t need a yearbook, huh?” Stan asked. “Don’t your parents want one?”

Mabel’s smile shrunk slightly, and her shoulders tensed. “They, ah… they don’t need one. They’ve got this,” she held the school scrapbook up a bit. “They can look at it whenever they want. I made it for them, after all.”

He didn’t know why, but Stan had the feeling that he was treading on thin ice here.

Rather than push onward, he decided to back off. “Okay, well... “ he fumbled, “you should finish up your scrapbooking. Your friends will be here soon.”

That seemed to perk Mabel up. “Oh, right. Thanks for reminding me, Grunkle Stan.” She flashed him a huge grin as she gathered up her books and supplies, then ran off upstairs.

“What was _that_ all about?” Stan muttered worriedly to himself.

\---

One evening, as the three of them were settling in for some nighttime television, the phone rang. Stan didn’t recognize the caller ID but decided to pick up anyway, ready to hang up if it was a telemarketer or someone from the IRS.

“Hello, Stanford Pines?” The voice on the other end was a woman, calm and professional. She sounded in a bit of hurry. Stan was a heartbeat away from slamming the phone down on the receiver before she started speaking again. “This is Diane, Mabel and Mason’s mother. I was just calling to-”

“Wait wait wait-” Stan sputtered. Their mother? Mason? What? “Can you repeat that?”

There was a small huff. “I’m Mabel and Mason’s mother. Diane Pines. My husband said he sent them to be with you over the summer, is that correct?”

Distantly it occurred to him that Dipper was a really weird thing to name a kid and this Mason she kept mentioning might be the boy’s real name, but there were a lot of other things on Stan’s mind.

Like why was the twins’ mom calling him a month into their visit to check if they were here.

He needed to respond eventually. “Uh… yeah. They’re with me.”

Out of the corner of his eye Stan saw two small heads poke around the corner and look at him. “Grunkle Stan, who’re you talking to?” Dipper, _Mason?_ , asked.

Diane was speaking again. “Okay. I just needed to check. Thank you for your time.”

“Wait,” Stan tried to stall, “don’t you want to talk to them?”

Mabel asked “Talk to who?”

“Your mom’s on the line-”

Dipper and Mabel both spoke at once, Mabel with joy and Dipper with shock. “Mom called?” “She wants to talk to us?”

If Diane could hear her children, she didn’t seem to care. “Is that really necessary? I’m busy.”

Stan couldn’t formulate a coherent response to that.

“I have to go. Good evening.”

The line went dead. Stan carefully put the phone back on the receiver and looked up at the kids.

Dipper’s gaze was on the floor, his jaw clenched. Mabel tried and failed to plaster a smile onto her face, her eyes looking watery.

Neither of them asked what happened.

Stan knew, in that moment, that something was seriously wrong with Dipper and Mabel’s home situation.

He wanted to know, _needed_ to know, but at the same time he really didn’t. And they didn’t look like they were ready to tell him.

So instead, Stan said, “Let’s go watch TV.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stan tried to keep things the same after the phone call.

Stan tried to keep things the same after the phone call.

He didn’t comment on how the twins thanked him after almost every meal. He didn’t ask why Mabel knew how to fix rips and get stains out of clothes, why Dipper could cook and bake with an oven, or why they both could wax a floor and re-shingle a roof. And most importantly, he didn’t use the “p” word or the related “m” and “d” words around them.

What he _did_ do was try to be there for them more. He occasionally told Mabel her new crazy art project looked nice, and sometimes admitted to Dipper he’d done a good job with his chores. He arranged for more “Family Fun Nights”. He tried to put it a bit of effort into caring about things like the dumb pig, or Dipper’s latest spooky adventure.

He didn’t quite pull it off all the time, but he did what he could.

Stan, Dipper and Mabel avoided talking about the call for about three weeks, and during those three weeks things were roughly the same as before. Mabel hid a boy band in the attic for a bit while she thought Stan wasn’t looking, and they found a cave full of dinosaurs preserved in amber, but that was just par for the course around Gravity Falls. When weird stuff wasn’t happening they managed the Shack, watched TV, visited the pool, and in general pretended nothing had happened.

But then things changed.

\---

As Stan sat on the floral, beige colored sofa in Soos’ grandmother's living room listening to “Abuelita” vacuuming down the hall and Dipper, Mabel and Soos trying to play with Soos’ train set, he quietly realized that the situation was a complete nightmare.

With Gideon, that awful little brat, in possession of the deed to the Shack, Stan had lost everything. His home, his savings, his job. Not to mention the basement, and everything in it. Stan comforted himself with the fact that unless Gleeful just started tearing the whole building down to the foundations, he probably wouldn’t find what was beneath it. Even if he did, if he didn’t have the other two journals it wouldn’t be of much use to him.

And, Stan admitted bitterly, it’s not like _he’d_ been getting very far with it either.

But despite recent events leaving him homeless and disrupting the very thing he’d spent the last thirty years of his life working on, it wasn’t what had Stan worried.

He was worried about the kids.

Soos’ grandmother was kind enough to let them stay for now, but Stan wasn’t an idiot. They couldn't stay here forever. She couldn’t afford to feed them all. Stan could probably survive going back to the homeless lifestyle, but the kids? He wouldn’t let that happen, not to them.

The obvious solution was to send them home. He would have already bought the tickets by now, were it not for the quiet, unacknowledged worry he had about their parents ever since the phone call.

He didn’t want to do this. He’d thought he could get away without ever having to, but the situation had changed.

Stan stood up and walked over to where Soos and the twins were playing. “Kids… we need to talk.”

The kids didn’t look up at him, still poking at the inactive train. “What about?” Mabel asked.

“About you two staying here.”

That got Dipper’s attention. The boy sat up straight and stared at him. “Wh- what do you mean?”

“I mean…” Stan sighed. “Look, I can’t take care of you two like this. With the Shack gone I don’t have any money and… and I think I should send you two home.”

Stan was watching the twins carefully as he said it. He saw the flickers of panic and dread cross both their faces as they and Soos clambered up from the floor to stand. He immediately felt bad.

Soos, however, didn’t see it. “What? No way dude!” The repairman’s voice held mild disappointment. “This is supposed to be their summer of fun! Mr. Pines, you can’t send them-”

“Soos,” Stan cut him off. “Could we, ah… have some privacy?”

“Uh…” Soos looked at the kids, and a bit of recognition entered his eyes. “Okay. Sure.” With that, he backed awkwardly out of the living room and down the hall somewhere, presumably his bedroom.

Dipper and Mabel stepped over the train set and stood in front of Stan. Stan kneeled down so he was eye-level with the twins. They were both starting to look pale.

Stan took a deep breath. “Are, ah… are you two… _safe_ … at home?”

“What? Ha ha…” Mabel tried to laugh, but there was an uneven edge to it. “That’s… you’re silly Grunkle Stan. Of course we’re safe! What… what would make you think...” she trailed off.

Stan raised an eyebrow at that, but before he could think of a way to tactfully call her out Dipper spoke up. “They’re not hurting us.” His tone was bitter, his head turned away so Stan couldn’t quite see his eyes.

A tension Stan didn’t realize he had suddenly eased at Dipper’s admission. One of his darker fears was put to rest at least. Judging from Dipper’s closed off demeanor and Mabel’s false cheer there was still something wrong, but at this point Stan felt he knew everything he needed to know.

“If that’s the case, then I’m sorry but I’ve got to send you home.”

“What?” Dipper responded first, shocked.

“But… no, Grunkle Stan!” Mabel was a bit frantic. “You don’t… this is fine, we’ll be fine, we don’t have to-”

“Do you have beds to sleep in there?” Stan asked. “Do you get enough food?”

Stunned, Mabel could only say, “yes.”

“Then… you’d be better off there than with me.” It hurt him to say it. “Kids, I don’t have a _job_. I don’t have a _house_. I can’t take care of you. I… look,” he pleaded, reaching out to rest a hand on their shoulders, “I’ve been homeless before. It’s hard living. I know I can make it,” actually, with as old as he was the prospect of going back to that life scared him a bit, but there was no need to tell them that, “but I’m not gonna drag you two into that.”

Mabel’s eyes started to well up with tears. Dipper, looking almost heartbroken, quietly muttered, “...you’re the only one that’s actually taken care of us.”

Stan’s resolve wavered. But then he thought of them having to sleep in the back of the car, living off leftovers and whatever he managed to steal, and he gathered up his determination. He stood up.

“Unless I manage to get the deed back from Gideon, you two are getting on a bus back to California tomorrow.” Then he turned away, not wanting to see their reactions. He knew if he did it might break him.

\---

As the sun started to set the day after that conversation, the warm rays of light falling over the Shack as he and the twins started moving all their stuff back in, Stan halfway suspected it all had to be a dream.

Yesterday he was forcing the kids to go back to a place they obviously hated while he himself faced living out of his car. Today he was the rightful owner of the Mystery Shack again, and his grandniece and grandnephew were going to be staying for the rest of the summer. Not to mention the prize he’d managed to pilfer from Gideon while retrieving the deed.

And it was all thanks to his hearing aid.

Well, from the looks of things Mabel and Dipper had been doing something as well, but Stan couldn’t make heads or tails of it and at this point honestly didn’t care. Everything had worked out in the end.

But as he watched Mabel and Dipper lug their suitcases into the Shack, chatting happily, Stan still felt the slightest bit of unease.

Sure, they didn’t have to go back today. But what about in August, when the summer ended? When it was sending them home or making them homeless, it was pretty obvious what the right option was. Now?

He really needed to know what was up with their home life. He didn’t particularly want to, and he suspected they didn’t want to, but it couldn’t be avoided anymore.

So after everything had been brought in and things were starting to settle down, Stan went up to the attic.

Mabel and Dipper were unpacking, but they stopped as he came in. “Oh, hey Grunkle Stan!” Mabel exclaimed happily.

“Hey kids.” Stan sat down on the edge of Dipper’s bed, prompting the boy to scoot over a bit and look at him questioningly. “I… um…”

Mabel frowned worriedly. “What’s wrong?”

“Everything’s fine,” Stan reassured. “I just… thought it was time that we talked.”

Dipper was starting to look nervous. “About…?”

“Your parents.” The word had the same effect it had in the past. Mabel fixed a small, fake smile onto her face while Dipper looked down at the clenching fists in his lap.

“Why do we need to talk about them, Grunkle Stan?” Mabel asked, “There’s nothing wrong.”

Without looking up, Dipper flatly said one word. “Mabel.”

“Dipper already told you, we’re fine,” the girl said with fabricated casualness. “They don’t hurt us-”

“Mabel,” there was a tension in the way Dipper said his twin’s name, “would you just-”

“-they don’t _abuse_ us or whatever,” Mabel went on, scoffing. “It’s no big deal-”

“-stop _doing_ this, are you _ever_ going to...” Dipper’s voice, though still quiet, was getting heated. He looked up at Mabel, who was still talking as though she couldn't hear him

“-it’s really not that bad. They love us, even if they don’t show it! I know they-”

Dipper was suddenly shouting. “ _Stop defending them!”_ Mabel stilled and Dipper took a few deep breaths before continuing at a normal level. “Stop acting like everything’s fine. It’s not.”

Stan had the feeling that they had this conversation between themselves in the past several times, mainly because neither of them seemed particularly shocked at the direction it had taken. The twins just looked at each other for a moment before Mabel let the smile drop.

They turned their wary gazes to Stan.

“We… it’s….” Dipper tried to start.

Mabel picked it up after he trailed off. “It’s… complicated.”

“Well, I’ve got time,” Stan replied. “Try me.”

And they did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In my notes, the next chapter's just got the word "Flashbacks" written next to it.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dipper and Mabel could remember a time when their family was happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I rated this fic and added a tag specifically because of this chapter. That should probably tell you plenty right there.
> 
> There was originally going to be one big flashback chapter, but it just kept getting bigger and bigger so I'm cutting it here so you don't have to wait for too long.
> 
> As for why I chose to use names in the ways that I did here, it was done deliberately. Perspective is important, as is the point in time at which the perspective is being given.

Dipper and Mabel could remember a time when their family was happy.

They were six years old, having just started elementary school. Dad would drive them there, pick them up and make them lunches. He did a lot of work on the computer in his office at home, but he always had time for them. Mom was away a lot, she was busy working somewhere important, but she always had breakfast with them in the morning and came home at night to ask how their day went.

They went on fun vacations. They dressed up for Halloween together. They got bedtime stories and presents and hugs. Everything was great.

Dipper and Mabel could remember when it changed.

\---

Mason woke up in the middle of the night. He didn’t know why at first. He didn’t think he had a nightmare. When he looked over at Mabel’s bed to see if she was up too, she was staring right back at him with a weird look on her face. Almost like she was scared.

And then he heard the shouting.

“-can’t _believe_ this, just what in the hell did I do to deserve such a _lazy, unfaithful_ husband!”

“Oh of _course_ Diane, make this all about you-”

“ _You’re_ the one that slept with some whore! _I’m_ the victim here, not you!”

“Did you even wonder _why_ I might have wanted to see someone else?! It’s because you’re a selfish, manipulative-”

“Are you seriously going to call _me_ manipulative?!”

“- _bitch_ , and don’t pretend you’re better than me! Or did you just forget about Jared?”

Mason didn’t understand. Why were Mom and Dad so angry? Why were they yelling? They were using words he didn’t understand, names he didn’t recognize. It was scary.

His bed dipped suddenly, and there was a pair of arms wrapping around him. Mabel muttered something he couldn’t hear. She was shaking.

He was shaking too.

They held each other until the yelling stopped.

\---

Mabel woke up in her brother’s bed. That wasn’t too weird, they shared a bed sometimes if they were lonely or if one of them had a nightmare. But this time, it was because…

She didn’t want to think about it.

Dad knocked on their door. “Kids, it’s time to get up.” He didn’t sound like he usually did. No sing-song voice, no jokes.

Mason stirred next to her and sat up, looking at the door with a worried face. He looked tired. Mabel felt tired too.

She wasn’t going to think about it.

They got ready and headed down for breakfast. Dad was just finishing setting everything out as they entered the kitchen. He gave them a smile, and Mabel smiled back. “Hey you two. It’s just going to be us for breakfast today.”

Mabel lost her smile.

“But… where’s Mom?” Mason asked.

Dad turned his head to look at the plates on the table. “She… wanted to get to work early today. I’m sure she’ll be here for breakfast tomorrow.”

That made Mabel feel better. It made Mason feel better too, she could tell from the way his eyebrows stopped being all scrunchy.

They sat down to eat, and things felt kind of normal.

\---

At that point in time, they were too young to recognize when they were being lied to.

Mom didn’t have breakfast with them the next day. Or the day after that. And when she was there, she and Dad were always mad at each other. They thought Mabel and Dipper didn’t notice, but they did.

Family meals used to be the best. Dad would have some funny story to tell. Mom would give them advice for school. Dipper and Mabel would tell them about how they were doing, and their parents would be happy to listen.

But after the fight…

\---

Mabel shifted awkwardly in her chair.

It Sunday, which meant that they all got to eat dinner together. Everyone was at the table, even Mom. It should have been good. Everything had been so weird for almost two weeks. It felt like forever to Mabel. But now everyone was finally here and it should have been good.

Mom and Dad were sitting on opposite sides of the table. No one was talking. Sometimes Mom’s hands clenched her fork like she wanted to stab something. Dad refused to look at any of them. Across the table, Mabel could see how nervous Mason was.

This was all wrong.

Mabel wanted to make it better. Maybe if she told them about the homework? “Umm… me and Mason finished the homework Mrs. Prachett gave us.” Normally this would earn her a smile from Dad and a “good job” from Mom. That would help, right?

“It’s ‘Mason and I’, Mabel.” Mom corrected bluntly.

Dad snorted. “Always have to correct people, don’t you,” he muttered, staring at his mashed potatoes.

Mom turned to look at Dad, her eyes narrowed. “What was that?”

“Oh, it’s nothing,” Dad replied. “Just noting that even our daughter isn’t except from your psychotic need for control.”

“ _Psychotic?_ ” Mom made a sound that reminded Mabel of a laugh, but it wasn’t happy at all. “This coming from the man that _lies_ every time he opens his mouth!”

Oh no. No no no, Mabel just made it worse.

“Can-can I be excused?” Mason asked quietly, eyes glued to his plate.

“No, Mason,” Mom said, still glaring at Dad, “you still need to finish your dinner.”

“Oh let him go Diane,” Dad snarled. “He just wants to get away from you. He always was a smart kid.”

Mason looked frozen. He glanced between their parents with wide eyes, but neither of them were paying him much attention. They were too busy making strange, angry remarks at each other that just got louder and louder.

Mabel shrank in her seat. This was all her fault.

\---

The moment Dad told Mabel and Mason to go get ready for bed, Mason was out of his chair and up the stairs.

Everything about that night had been horrible. He had felt stiff, stuck. Like he couldn’t do anything but sit and listen as Mom and Dad argued.

Mason had never been happier to go to bed in his life.

It didn’t take long for Mabel to catch up to him. As they stood in the bathroom brushing their teeth, Mason couldn’t help but look at their reflections in the mirror. Mabel looked really upset, like she was about to cry. His own face was pale, and there was this weird tension to it that he could feel but didn’t really understand.

They finished up quickly and got dressed for bed. They waited a while for Dad to come tuck them in, but he didn’t come. Mason got up and turned off the light himself.

Instead of going back to his bed, Mason walked over to Mabel’s. Without a word, she moved over and lifted the blanket so he could join her. They laid side-by-side, staring at the ceiling.

“I’m sorry,” Mabel whispered.

Mason turned his head. He couldn’t see her all that well in the dark. “What?” He was confused.

Mabel’s voice was shaky. “It’s all my fault. They got mad because of me. I’m sorry.”

What was she talking about? Mason thought through the dinner again. Things were strange but quiet, and then Mabel told them about finishing their homework. Mom corrected Mabel for something, then Dad said something about that…

It was all weird and Mason didn’t like thinking about it. Remembering made his insides twist up. But was it really Mabel’s fault?

“I don’t think it was your fault…” Mason said finally. “Dad was upset with Mom because of what she said, not you.” He just wanted them to not be so mad...

“B-but…” Mabel let out a small sob. “But if I hadn’t said anything…”

Mason turned and hugged Mabel. He was starting to cry too.

It was a while before they both managed to calm down. As they started to drift off to sleep, Mabel murmured, “They’re not going to keep being like this, right? Everything will go back to normal soon.”

Mason hoped so.

\---

Things didn’t go back to normal.

Their parents hatred of each other gradually seeped into _everything_.

Mom and Dad avoided each other. Mom was gone first thing in the morning, and just as she pulled in the driveway in the evening Dad left to go see some of his friends about “work”. He wouldn’t come back until after Dipper and Mabel had gone to bed, and the morning afterward he always had a headache.

Dipper and Mabel got used to it over time. They got used to not being tucked in at night, to being quiet in the morning, to not seeing Mom until dinner. It was better than what happened when Mom and Dad were both home at the same time. It became the new normal.

Eventually the holidays came around.

Halloween was okay. Mabel and Dipper got matching costumes like before, and Dad took a picture, but they didn’t get to trick or treat very long. Dad didn’t want to be around too late and Mom didn’t want to take them out. That was fine though. It was almost like how it used to be.

Thanksgiving was awful. It was like that first bad dinner all over again, except there were too many other people around for Mom and Dad to yell at each other so they just glared and constantly made snippy comments while Dipper and Mabel tried to draw as little attention as possible.

Dipper and Mabel don’t like to think about that year’s Christmas.

On New Year’s Eve, Mom and Dad hired a babysitter. They both had other things to do than stay and celebrate with their children.

After New Year’s Eve, things changed again.

\---

One quiet Friday afternoon, with Dad in his office working and Mabel off somewhere working on a new picture, Mason heard a car pull up outside. Curious, he looked up from the book he was reading to see out the window by his desk.

It was Mom’s car.

It was really early for Mom to be home. Dad was still there. Mason’s breath hitched.

He had to find Mabel.

Book forgotten, Mason raced downstairs. Just as he reached the last step, he heard the front door open. He stopped, frozen, as Mom walked over toward him.

“Hi, Mom,” he said weakly.

She didn’t respond. Brushing past him, she kept moving forward up the stairs.

Why didn’t she say anything? Mason’s chest hurt and his eyes stung. Why did she ignore him?

Mabel. Need to find Mabel.

Mason looked around everywhere for her and finally found her out on the back porch with her coloring book and crayons. When she caught sight of him, she smiled and showed him what she had been working on, a picture of a unicorn. “Look Mason It’s a-”

“Mom’s home,” Mason blurted out.

He saw the look on his sister’s face change, how it went from happy, to surprised, to scared. Then she smiled again, but it looked wrong. “Maybe… maybe she wants to spend time with us?”

Mason couldn’t talk. His throat was hurting for some reason. He shook his head, but Mabel wasn’t looking at him anymore.

“I’ll go show her my picture! Maybe she’ll like it.” Mabel grabbed her picture and moved past Mason to go inside. He followed her, with no idea of what to do, but they didn’t get far before they heard voices coming from upstairs. Mabel kept going anyway, stopping just outside their parent’s bedroom.

“-erstand, the company is just… sending you to another city? I mean, how does that even work?” Dad wasn’t yelling yet at least. He sounded more confused than anything.

There were clattering sounds and thumps. “I told you, they need me to oversee the merger. And I can’t just teleconference, this is an important process, I have to be there. The plane leaves tonight.”

“Tonight? I-I don’t…” Dad sighed. “Where are they even sending you? And for how long?”

Mom replied quickly. “Hong-Kong. And I’ll be gone for at least three months.”

“What?! How- they shouldn’t be able to do that to you on such short notice.”

“How nice of you to _care_ , Alan,” Mom sneered. “But they didn’t do this to me. I volunteered.”

There was a long, quiet moment.

“So that’s it? You’re just leaving the kids behind?” Dad let out an empty laugh. “How did I end up married to someone so _heartless_?”

Mason heard Mom scoff. “Try looking in a mirror sometime Alan, it won’t kill you. Move, I need to finish packing.”

Dad walked out of the room and down the stairs, not noticing Mabel and Mason pressed against the wall. Mason grabbed Mabel’s hand, pulled her to their room and closed the door.

He wrapped his arms around himself. “Mom’s… leaving…?”

“No, she…” Mabel shook her head. “Maybe this… Hungkon place is close by, so she can still come see us?”

But she has to take a plane. You don’t take planes to go to places that are close by.

Mason sat down on his bed, curling in on himself. His sister settled down beside him.

“Things’ll be okay,” Mabel said to herself.

\---

Some time later, Mabel heard Mom’s car drive off.

Mabel didn’t want to believe it. She had to go downstairs and out the front door into the cold evening to see for herself, but Mom had left.

She hadn’t said goodbye.

Mason was waiting for her at the door when Mabel came back in, and she immediately latched onto him. They went and sat together in the living room, still holding each other, for a long time. At some point Mabel worked up the energy to turn on the TV, and they stared blankly at the commercials that played.

It got darker and darker outside. Eventually they got hungry, and went looking for Dad.

Mabel found him in his office. The ceiling light was off and his computer screen was dark. The only light in the room was coming from his desk lamp. He was slumped over his desk with a bottle in his hand.

Mabel grabbed his arm. “Dad?”

Dad made a groaning noise.

Was he sleeping? Why was he sleeping at his desk? And why did it smell so bad?

“...Dad?” She shook his arm a bit.

That seemed to get his attention. “Wha?” He muttered.

“Mason and I are hungry.”

Dad lifted his head a bit to look at her. His eyes were red and unfocused. He started talking, but it didn’t make any sense. “Oh. Ofcous, therzlefoer. Frig. Yergoo, yocin dit. I nedslpnew.” Then he turned away and laid his head back down. Mabel shook his arm and called for him again, but he didn’t respond.

Dad was too tired to make dinner. She didn’t understand. She was too tired to understand any of it.

Mabel found Mason and told him about it. Mason looked far away in his eyes, like he was somewhere else, when she told him. He just nodded.

They bundled up together on the couch again, stomachs empty, and watched stuff on TV until they passed out.


End file.
